


Frailty

by radiofreekerberos



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Hurt Shiro (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith (Voltron) is ashamed, M/M, Protective Keith (Voltron), SHEITH - Freeform, Shiro (Voltron) Has a Clone, Shiro (Voltron) Whump, Sickfic, Whump Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 16:13:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14772908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radiofreekerberos/pseuds/radiofreekerberos
Summary: “Shiro,” a voice says, soft and a little ragged, a little cracked around the edges, as if all the emotions it’s held have worn it out over time, Keith’s voice. And Keith’s hands, solid and warm around Shiro’s flesh and blood fingers. He’d know those hands anywhere. “It’s okay,” Keith says softly. “I’ve got you. You’re gonna be okay.”or, the one where Shiro finally comes home





	Frailty

It takes awhile for Shiro to return to himself. He doesn’t know how long. Time has lost all meaning. It flows like water running through his fingers. Days pass in vague increments marked by nightmare visions of things floating in vats. Things that look like twisted versions of himself. Half-formed lumps of flesh, rippling with tortured movement. 

He can’t look away from the perfect one. The one that wears his face like some mechanical doll waiting to be wound up. The empty vessel they’re planning to fill with his stolen memories while he bears helpless witness to its first lurching steps. 

He hears himself scream when red-hot needles prick his skin, filling his veins with burning liquid that paralyzes him and turns his unblinking eyes to shattered glass. Harsh white light bites into his skull like a laser and the buzz of a thousand hornets fills his head.

“Shiro,” a voice says, soft and a little ragged, a little cracked around the edges, as if all the emotions it’s held have worn it out over time, Keith’s voice. And Keith’s hands, solid and warm around Shiro’s flesh and blood fingers. He’d know those hands anywhere. “It’s okay,” Keith says softly. “I’ve got you. You’re gonna be okay.”

“Keith,” Shiro whimpers. He wants so badly to believe it, but he’s had this dream before. Keith coming to his rescue again and again. As many times as it takes. “Keith,” he murmurs again, allowing the dream to take hold of him. His vision starts to disintegrate around the edges as he gratefully slips into numbing darkness. 

He doesn’t know how much time has passed before he wakes up again. Eventually the smears of gray distorting his vision like the streaks on a rain-soaked windowpane resolve into the familiar contours of his room inside the castle of lions. 

He’s laying on his side, in his own bed, though the linens have recently been changed. He runs his flesh and blood fingers along the cool edge of the sheets. They feel solid enough, real enough. 

He lays there for a moment, staring at the monochrome walls and sparse furnishings, waiting for the mirage to dissipate like so many grains of shifting sand. When it doesn’t, he chances a look at the slim fingers curled up in his, and the dark shaggy head propped against the bed.

Most people think it’s black, Keith’s hair, but it turns indigo in the light of the setting desert sun. Shiro is probably the only person living who knows that. He looks at Keith balled up on the floor beside the bed and on impulse, runs his unfeeling robotic fingers through it. Keith stirs and lifts his head. He almost looks as tired as Shiro feels. 

“Are you real?” Shiro asks, still not quite trusting his senses. His voice is like a rusty door hinge, cracked and raspy from disuse. 

Keith doesn’t answer. He rises to his knees and takes Shiro’s face in his hands. Their foreheads touch and Shiro closes his eyes. Something tight and constricting eases inside Shiro’s chest as he takes in Keith’s warmth and breathes in his scent. 

Back on Earth, Keith smelled of leather and engine oil and apple scented shampoo. The apple thing always made Shiro smile. Here he smells of body armor and sword polish and that sort of earthy cinnamon scent that all Altean bath products seem to have. 

“I should’ve known he wasn’t you,” Keith murmurs ruefully. “I don’t know why I didn’t.”

“You couldn’t have,” Shiro tries to reassure him, even though the tiniest part of him is vaguely disappointed at the admission.

Keith looks up and Shiro can see the guilt clearly written in the dark circles bruising his eyes. “I knew he didn’t feel the same,” he says softly. 

Shiro tenses. “You and he didn’t…”

“No,” Keith says tightly, his cheeks flushing pink. “I meant being around him, talking to him… It wasn’t the same.”

There’s something unspoken in Keith’s words. Something he’s keeping to himself. Shiro can see it in his eyes. 

“Where is he now?” He asks. 

“Prison bay,” Keith says simply. 

“He didn’t hurt anyone did he?” Shiro hesitates, almost afraid to know the answer to his next question. “He didn’t hurt you did he?”

“No, I’m fine,” Keith says a little too quickly. “Everyone’s fine. “

He pulls away and drops his gaze so that Shiro can’t see his face. 

“Keith, talk to me,” Shiro says. He wishes he could sit up, or move at all really. He wishes he could hold Keith in his arms, but his body has turned to lead and he can barely move his arms and legs. 

“You should get some rest,” Keith tells him. “You were pumped full of some pretty serious drugs when we found you. Coran says they’ll take a while to leave your system.”

“You look like you could use some sleep yourself,” Shiro says.

Keith smiles tightly and shakes his head. “I’m good.”

“Will you still be here when I wake up?”

“Where else would I be?” Keith asks, his smile warming slightly, though it does little to ease Shiro’s mind.

“You do realize that none of this was your fault right?” he asks.

Keith doesn’t say anything for a long time. Long enough for Shiro to give in to the demands of his exhausted body and start drifting off. He fights to keep his eyes open, but Keith’s face begins to waver despite his best efforts. 

Keith sits on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest. “I brought him here,” he whispers, but by then Shiro can no longer hear him.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on the [tumblr](https://radiofreekerberos.tumblr.com/)


End file.
